Wholock The Adventure of Jack The Ripper
by I-Married-My-Fandoms
Summary: Sherlock was in the middle of a very mundane case when a mad man in a bow-tie showed up, whisking him off to his blue box to solve a murder case that had been cold for over 120 years. Can Sherlock solve this case? He can't even put on his trousers!
1. Chapter 1

http:/ riverthestral. tumblr. com/post/ 15439886909/ put-your-trousers-on-how-did-this-ever-get-4000

http:/ imarriedmyfandoms .tumblr .com/ post/ 15453509549/ penworthy-consultingburglar

AN – welcome to a new concept idea I have for a Wholock fic. I know, it's been FOREVER since I've written anything (actually it's only been forever since I've UPDATED anything to you guys) So, please leave me a comment if you like it, this is loosely based off of a scene from the first episode of the new series of Sherlock season two "A Scandal in Belgravia" and, as always, nothing belongs to me. Let's see how this plays out, shall we?

"Is your doorbell not working again Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson asked as she showed the odd man wearing the tweed coat and bow-tie into the flat.

"Sherlock Holmes… you'll need to come with me." The Doctor had a goofy smile on his face. Sherlock, who was right in the middle of a very important video chat with John about a case, turned to look at the two new people in the room.

"And why would that—" Sherlock stopped as he realized who the man was, his eyes taking in everything, from the unrealistic wear pattern of his clothes to the fact that some of the materials were just plain _not from earth_.

"Sherlock?" John asked from the screen of the computer. They had been talking about a case, which John had been forced from the flat to go to with his laptop.

"Just a moment John… what do you want?" Sherlock asked, his face serious as he looked at The Doctor.

"I told you, you need to come with me. I have transport all ready for us outside, though you may want to put your trousers on, might not be a chance to change where we're going." The Doctor smiled widely, bordering on manic.

"Oh… I know exactly where we're going… sorry John, have to go. Nothing difficult, you can leave the scene if you like." And with that Sherlock was standing, sheet still wrapped firmly around his body.

"What the…" John started as the screen on his laptop went black. "That git hung up on me… this was defiantly an eight." John mumbled as he shut his laptop, giving the machine a slight glare.

"Right-o! Let's go! Oh…" The Doctor started. "That rhymed." He laughed.

"Yes, how amusing. Shall we proceed though?" Sherlock stated, standing there in his sheet.

"Not going to put your trousers on, are you?" The Doctor just shook his head, left and grabbed a set of clothes for Sherlock, new pants, trousers, collared shirt and suit jacket, along with a set of socks and loafers. After he came out, Sherlock still stood there, so the Doctor rolled his eyes, still smiling, and walked out of the flat. Sherlock followed after him, yes every wary and watching. They both walked out onto the street and The Doctor smiled as the TARDIS came in sight. Sherlock just narrowed his eyes more. The Doctor walked over and opened the door, walking in and setting Sherlock's clothes down before going and jumping up the stairs towards the center consul. Sherlock walked in after, closing the door and watching the mad man with the blue box practically skip. "You should put your trousers on! This might get bumpy!"

"You've yet to tell me why exactly I'm here." Sherlock stated as he walked further into the TARDIS, eyes roaming, taking in that it was larger on the inside than the outside, reeling over in his head the quantum physics that would have to be applied to actually make something of this magnitude possible.

"Well," The Doctor started, running around the center consul and flipping switches, throwing levers, pushing buttons. "You're Sherlock Holmes, the consulting detective, am I right?" Sherlock looked at him weird with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, that's correct."

"Well," The Doctor continued to run around, preparing the TARDIS for flight. "You're here to solve a murder."

"And who, exactly, has been murdered that you need me to solve it?" Sherlock proceeded to drop his sheet, not really caring that he was stark naked in the small blue box that was bigger on the inside with the madman and started putting his clothes on.

"Five women… in London England… in the late 1800's. You're here to find their murder." The Doctor seemed somber as he spoke those words, but continued to do his job of controlling the TARDIS. Sherlock looked up at him suddenly, just having finished putting his trousers on and was buttoning up his shirt.

"Jack The Ripper…" The Doctor threw a look over at Sherlock, happy that the genius had figured out their mission, but eternally sad that those five women were dead and there was nothing that he could do to fix it.

"Geronimo." And with that The Doctor tossed a lever and the TARDIS was off.


	2. Chapter 2

"You may want to hold onto something!" The Doctor shouted from behind the centre consul. Sherlock looked around, suddenly hearing a loud 'VWORP VWORP' noise and the machine began to shake. Sherlock grabbed a hold of the nearest wall, fingers gripping tightly as they suddenly stopped. He stumbled a bit before catching his bearings and straightening, fixing his collar.

"So," Sherlock stated, not at all impressed by what had just happened. "Where are we exactly?" The Doctor came around from the back of the consul and straightened his bowtie.

"Not where, when! Really, you humans, always asking where!" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Dull. When are we then?" The doctor shot a look over at the consul one last time.

"Fall, 1888, I'd say late November. The five murders have occurred, so we've already lost Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catharine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly. The scenes are probably in a horrendous state but we can get the autopsy reports. Remember now, the technology is pretty far off from what you're used to." Sherlock blinked, realizing this and reached into his pocket to pull out his mobile. He saw that he wouldn't even turn on.

"Hm," Sherlock stated "Mycroft would absolutely hate this… having to do all the leg work." A smile spread across Sherlock's face, giving him a slightly manic look at the excitement he had bubbling up inside. One of the greatest mysteries of all time? The most famous serial killer? And Sherlock was getting to solve it… brilliant. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"If you're ready to go, Mr Holmes, may we?" The Doctor lead the way out, stepping out of the TARDIS and waiting for Sherlock to leave as well before locking it behind them. The street was bustling with people, lower class from the looks of most of them. Sherlock gave an open eye around the area.

"We're at Mitre Square…" Sherlock frowned. "I need a map." The Doctor blinked, slightly surprised.

"A map? I thought you knew London like the back of your hand!" Sherlock scoffed at him, rolling his eyes.

"I do, just not in this time. The names of the streets have changed. That I know for a fact. What was once Bucks Row is now Durward Street. I could easily guide us to the correct locations, but the street names will be confusing. The first place we need to go is the police station… we need to speak to Det—." Sherlock stopped. "They're not called Detective Inspector's in this period. Inspector Abberline. We need to find him and speak with him, he'd the one leading this investigation, not well, but then again, the police force has always needed help." The Doctor smiled.

"Right! This way!" and off he went, Sherlock following quickly behind, desperately wishing that they had brought his coat, scarf and gloves.


	3. Chapter 3

The two arrived at the police station in a short matter of time. It was mid-morning when they had landed and it was early afternoon when they arrived outside the station. They walked in and the movement around the room stopped. A man was sitting behind a desk, working on some papers; another was filing something against the wall with a stack of folders in his hands. There was another policeman down around a corner, checking in on the people who had been locked up. Sherlock's eyes roamed the room, catching everything and sorting it into files in his brain, what needed to be kept, and what was useless.

"Can I help you two?" the man at the desk had finally said, moving the papers in front of him out of the way, folding his hands. Sherlock was about to speak when The Doctor stepped in front of him, pulling out something from his jacket and showing it to the man there.

"Yes, I'm Inspector John Smith and this is my associate Sherlock Holmes. We've been sent by, er…" The Doctor faltered. Sherlock easily cut in.

"We've been sent by Assistant Commissioner Anderson," Sherlock gave a slight sneer at the name, his mind automatically shifting to the overly annoying forensic technician he knew before he returned to his statement, "in regards to the cases of Nichols, Chapman, Stride, Eddowes, and Kelly. Is Inspector Abberline in?" Sherlock sent The Doctor an exasperated look before noticing the paper held in his hands had nothing on it. Interesting. The man at the desk shook his head.

"Sorry gents, the Inspector is out at the moment. Is there anything I can help you with though? PC Edward Watkins, at your service." The man gave off a smart salute at the two other men.

"We need all the information in regards to those five cases, anything you have constable. Anything that may be able to help, including copies of the autopsy reports if you have them." The Doctor was back in his swing, shoving his psychic paper back in his jacket. Sherlock looked at the constable for a moment, eyes shifting over him before his memory finally clicked as to where he had known the name from.

"You're the one who found Ms Eddowes body, aren't you?" Watkins looked up at Sherlock quickly, eyes widening in shock.

"Yes… yes I found that poor woman. How could you possibly know that?" The Doctor sent a sidelong glance at Sherlock. Sherlock, on the other hand just brought his hands up, folded together, and pressed the tips of his fingers under his nose.

"Your reaction to when I spoke her name. You flinched involuntarily, obviously because you found the body and your mind automatically remembered the scene. Your subconscious bringing forth the images because you had seen the actual body, rather than the photographs, which I assume you saw of the other victims, was more vivid, therefore, more traumatic." Watkins stared at Sherlock for a moment before blinking out of it.

"That's… you got all of that because I flinched? What exactly do you do Mr Holmes?" the answer was out of Sherlock's mouth before he even had a moment to think about it.

"I'm a Consulting Detective."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I am so so soooooooooooooo sorry it has taken me literally over a year to do this. I was looking through my old stuff and started reading this to my fiancée and she liked it but was confused as to how it could end in three chapters… it didn't. But with another three chapters, it will! I will be uploading all three chapters here today and I really hope you enjoy! It took me time, but I thought it was good. Please review and tell me what you think! Just another story to end in the completed section! End AN**

PC Watkins looked up at the two standing before him with a puzzled expression on his face. "A Consulting… a what?" he asked, brows pulled together. Sherlock rolled his eyes; he figured he would have to explain. The Doctor noticed Sherlock about to open his mouth and quickly covered it with his hand, instantly knowing the genius detective would end up insulting the poor PC.

"He's a bit of a freelance detective, see? Gets to go around helping anyone who wants it, even police, which is why we are here… so PC Watkins, those files?" he looked hopeful as a sour looked passed over Sherlock's face. Removing The Doctor's hand from his mouth Sherlock straightened his clothes, still wishing he had brought his coat with him. Watkins looked between the two strange men for another moment before moving from behind the desk and heading to grab the files they had wanted to see. Sherlock stood impatiently, looking around the dreary room. At least the squad room back New Scotland Yard was cleaner than this one.

After a few moments, Watkins walked back with the folders, holding it out to them. "I'll tell Inspector Abberline that you stopped by and ask him to give you a ring. Any number we can contact you on?" Sherlock ignored the PC as he snatched the folder, opening it and leafing through the paperwork and pictures. Clues flashed before his eyes as he scanned through everything, knowing that he would need a room and space to figure this all out… he was doing it the old fashioned way.

The Doctor watched the younger man for a moment before shaking his head a bit to bringing himself back to the conversation. "No, sorry to say, we haven't got a phone at the moment, bit of an accident with this one and a Bunsen burner that ended with half the room in flames…" if Sherlock had been paying attention to anything but the clues he would have heard the snide jab at his-self that the Doctor laid onto the man.

"Ah," Watkins nodded a bit, not quite understanding how that could have possibly taken out their telephone. "Well at least an address where we can send a telegram close by? I'm sure Inspector Abberline will want to get in contact with you somehow…" The Doctor nodded and started to write down something before he stopped himself, a playful smile crossing his face, before jotting down 221B Baker Street, London, England. He handed the paper to the PC before deftly dragging Sherlock out by the arm.

"Thanks for the help! We'll be sure to get back to you!" The Doctor pulled Sherlock along, the other man muttering under his breath a bit, as they entered into a pub close by to huddle in a corner.

"Any chance we can use that box of yours to hold up? I need room… and materials… it's going to be more difficult without my technology, but I can do this." Sherlock didn't even look up from his papers as he was shoved into the booth by the back, also ignoring the waiter who came to take their order.

"Wotcha havin' gents?" he asked in a thick cockney accent. Sherlock just kept shuffling papers. The Doctor smiled up at the young lad.

"Apologies for my associate, he doesn't talk to many people. Tea, if you could, for us both." The lad nodded and jotted it down before walking away. Sherlock looked up at the Time Lord for a moment before putting the papers down.

"So, your box?" The Doctor nodded at him for a moment.

"Yes, the TARDIS, we can use the library if you like, it's next to the pool… though I'll have to warn you, I have a feeling that this Jack The Ripper may not be human…" he fiddled with his shirt cuff, looking away from Sherlock, knowing the experience might be out of Sherlock's mental capabilities. The genius just rolled his eyes at the lighter haired brunette.

"It's obviously as alien as you are, seeing as otherwise, you wouldn't have come to make me one of your companions Doctor." The Doctor looked slightly shocked at Sherlock for a moment before he blinked comically, realization dawning on him.

"I never introduced myself… how did you know…" his statement was left an almost question, an inflection making the alien's voice rise as he stared curiously at the human. Sherlock scoffed as he leaned back in his seat, hands folding in front of him and pressing together to rest right beneath his nose.

"My brother is the British government, you think I wouldn't know all of England's dirty little secrets? I'm not daft Doctor, John Smith was a dead giveaway, you always use that name. And the fact that you have a time traveling inter-dimensional police box that you just drag people into was blaringly obvious. So, let's see, by the time it is in my time, the year, you must have already dealt with the Ponds, am I correct?" Sherlock was watching the other man carefully for his reactions, not needing real answers verbally to get the information he needed. "Ah, I see, they've already died then, or at least have been sent back in time. Technically, where we are now, they still haven't been born. Interesting… also River Song, you know who she really is. I suppose you haven't met the next one… though that shall come. I suppose this is your last ditch effort to try and help before you close yourself off to the world, hm?" Sherlock watched the dread and grief pass over the Time Lord's face as he mentioned the painful memories. Swallowing the lump in his throat, The Doctor was about to answer, when their waiter returned with their tea.

"Cream an' sugar gents?" Sherlock just reached over and took his cup, holding the warm ceramic in his hands. The Doctor shook his head a bit and the waiter left them to their tea.


	5. Chapter 5

The two stayed in the Pub just long enough to finish their tea and leave the bill. As they walked back towards where The Doctor had parked the TARDIS, Sherlock spoke. "Whatever this thing was, it was trying to fit in. It didn't want to be noticed, and maybe that worked the first time, but probably not after the second, then it got sloppy. Curious… maybe it… no, no guessing. Only the clues. John has been theorizing far too much to me recently." Sherlock felt a small pang of guilt at leaving his Doctor, the one that mattered to him, back in the 21st century. He would have to find some way to apologize… maybe tidy up the flat some? Or that restaurant John liked on Third Street… he shook his head, not needing to get into those thoughts right now. "We need to work. Takes us back to your box and we can get this done. The sooner it's done, the sooner I can return to my time and my technology."

The Doctor watched Sherlock as they walked, his mind plagued with more and more memories of the Ponds and how he had let them down… guilt was consuming his heart, and he wanted nothing more now than to be alone. The harsh truth Sherlock had spat at him was repeated over and over again in his brain as they walked. "Yes, as soon as we're done I'll take you home… right." Sherlock watched The Doctor out of the corner of his eye, knowing he had probably done something to stop the happy attitude the other had had not too long ago. He ignored it though as they finally reached the TARDIS, going to open the door and step inside. He was slightly shocked when it didn't open for him as he was expecting.

"Your contraption is either locked, or doesn't want to let me in…" Sherlock stated and The Doctor blinked, looking up.

"Ah, sorry, here." He pulled out his key, turning it in the lock and unlocking the door, stepping inside before walking down one of the halls towards the library. They would have plenty of room there. As Sherlock closed the door behind him, he studied the other man, noticing every small miniscule detail about the other. But he kept silent, knowing, for once in his life, it was not his place to bring this up. Perhaps Mycroft had left this out of the report on The Doctor for a reason… or for once Sherlock's obnoxious older brother didn't know something. As he remembered reading, The Doctor was supposed to go off, after the Ponds had gone, and gotten himself depressed, hanging out in Victorian London all alone, and then found someone new who changed his perspective… but Sherlock hadn't been anywhere in the report, which lead him to believe Mycroft had left him out on purpose, or he had missed the fact that The Doctor was going to try and catch Jack The Ripper.

The two entered the library and The Doctor cleared a table for Sherlock to work on. "This should be helpful, I'll get some things together, but start piecing whatever you can together. If we find out what it is, we can find out how to stop it." The Doctor placed a large book down on the table before leaving Sherlock alone. Sherlock eyed the book for a moment before opening it and seeing a long listing of different aliens, what they looked like, what they could do, and where they were from, as well as encounter dates. Although he wanted to leaf through the book and find out just how many aliens there were out there in the universe, he pushed it aside. Jack The Ripper came first…

When The Doctor returned with a laptop in his hands, as well as a few more books tucked under his arm, he saw Sherlock leaning over the table, tacking a bit of string to a map, before running it across to a hook on the wall. The library was filled with string, running from the map to something else, it looked like a giant, red spiders web.

"Well," The Doctor started, placing his things on the table in a clear spot by the corner. "Looks like you've found the things you needed in the desk, anything else you need?" Sherlock ignored him for a moment before standing back.

"The first attack was not planned, it just happened. It wanted some sort of attachment, probably what it wanted from the others, but after the first, the bloodlust took over. There are several cases of eye witnesses whose descriptions don't match, so it must be a shape shifter of some sort. Probably a Zygon by the sound of things. Why it came to London from Scotland is beyond even my comprehension, but if it's not caught soon, it will kill again. It knows it's being followed and will probably soon know that we are after it. This area here," And Sherlock moved, pointing to a large red circle on the map. "Is where all the attacks happened. This area here," And he pointed to a smaller green circled area inside the large red one. "Is where it most likely is hiding. They always 'go home' as it were, so it shouldn't be too hard to find." He rubbed his hands together, looking over at the shocked expression of The Doctor. "Too fast? I can slow down for you if you'd prefer." The Doctor just shook his head.

"I didn't even have time to help and you've got it all figured out, haven't you? They don't call you London's greatest Detective for nothing… I suppose I should go out and find him, chances are there's no hope to save him from himself… and I can't return him to the other Zygons, they're only kill him…" The Doctor rubbed at his face, sighing heavily. Sherlock watched the other man for a few more moments before ducking under some string and walking over to him. He placed a hand on the tweed jacket in what might resemble comfort, if you could call it that from Sherlock Holmes. The Doctor looked up tiredly at the other man and sighed, giving a small smile.

"We catch it, than I think we both need a break, hm?" Sherlock looked tired as well as he moved his hand back, his emotions back under control as he straightened his suit jacket. The Doctor nodded and walked back out of the library towards the console room. This needed to end now.


	6. Chapter 6

There was a fight, obviously there was a fight. Sherlock had insisted on coming with The Doctor, to make sure that the situation was properly taken care of before he went home. The Doctor had done what he always did, offered peace instead of death, and the crazed Zygon, Sherlock was right about that, did what they always do. It ignored the offer and went for the throat. Sherlock had done some quick thinking and pulled out a gun he had snuck with him when he left the flat and pointed it at the creature. It had shed its human skin and was standing before them in its natural body. It didn't repulse Sherlock nearly as much as he thought it would. It was dead with one quick shot, oddly colored blood pooling out of the hole in its head. Sherlock felt no remorse for the death of the infamous Jack The Ripper, and yet he also didn't feel pride at the idea of murdering someone. It never sat right with him, but it was what had to be done. John would have been proud.

"I'll just drop you off at home, shall I?" The Doctor asked, sometime after they had returned the body of the dead Zygon to its family. Sherlock looked in the small space around them, at the technology that was far superior to that of his own time. He idly wondered if he should stay for a while and travel around the solar system, maybe he would be able to remember it now. He shook his head a bit in thought, giving a small smile.

"Yes… home sounds like it." He could have stayed… but there was someone that was waiting for him to return, and he wouldn't keep his blogger waiting any longer than he had to.

The trip was short, and the TARDIS landed a block from Sherlock's flat. The two brunettes looked at each other for a few moments before Sherlock stuck his hand out for a shake.

"Doctor, it has been an honor and an absolute pleasure working with you… maybe sometime in the future we shall meet again… but next time, John is coming with us." The Doctor gave a small smile as he shook Sherlock's hand, nodding a bit.

"Wouldn't want you to go without your Boswell, just wouldn't be right." They gave each other one final hand shake before Sherlock walked out of the TARDIS and towards his flat. The mystery of Jack The Ripper would never be solved… at least not in the history books. But Sherlock Holmes, well, he was one for the history books as well, wasn't he?


End file.
